Promise Me Tomorrow
by Fate's Apprentice
Summary: It's times like these when he misses him. When it occurs to House how much he cares for the young oncologist. When Wilson wonders if the diagnostician is okay. Is he happy, or even alive? It's times like these when it hits them both how very much in love with each other they really are and they never even realized it... but now it's too late, right? House/Wilson Slash.
1. Welcome To Hell

**Title: **Promise Me Tomorrow

**Author: **Fate's Apprentice

**Fandom: **TV- House, MD.

**Language: **English

**Rating: **T- for language, innuendos, and adult situations.

**Setting: **Before the actual series started and before House's infarction.

**Characters: **G. House, J. Wilson, R. Chase, A. Cameron, E. Foreman, L. Cuddy. Various Ocs.

**Pairings: **G. House/ J. Wilson – (Hilson). R. Chase/ OC, A. Cameron/OC, L. Cuddy/OC

**Author's Notes:** This story starts about three years before the actual series and most definitely before House's infarction. If you don't like that idea, don't read it.. hit the back button, walk away... I don't care. Just don't complain about THAT in my reviews. Because of this setting, ages are different. House is now 37, Wilson is 34, Cuddy is 36, Chase is 28, Cameron is 26, and Foreman is 33.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything you recognize, I'm just merely borrowing them. Please don't sue my pants off. Also, I got this idea from watching FALLING SKIES. This is NOT A CROSSOVER, I'm just applying the general premise of FALLING SKIES to HOUSE, MD and this is what I got.

**Summary: **It's times like these when he misses him. When it occurs to House how much he cares for the younger oncologist. When Wilson wonders if the older diagnostician is okay, is he happy, or even alive. It's times like these when it hits them how very much in love with each other they really were and they never even realized it... but now it's too late, right? House/Wilson Slash.

**Beta:** My amazing Beta,_ Crystal Dragon's Lament_ is fantastic and gets all the credit.

* * *

_**Chapter One:**_

_Welcome To Hell_

* * *

"Why?" the thirty-seven year old diagnostician whines, childishly. He folds his arms across his chest and shifts impatiently in the chair across from his boss, Dean of Medicine, Lisa Cuddy. Said Dean sighs, already tired of this conversation. She lowers her gaze and shuffles some papers, choosing to concentrate on one so it at least looks like she's working. Without looking up she replies in a clearly annoyed tone, "Because you haven't attended a medical conference in nearly three years and you have to."

House stands, obviously done with this argument. "I don't have to do anything, Cuddles," he snaps back, turning for the door with no intention of attending any conferences.

"Yes, you do. If you don't... I'll tell Wilson," she replies without missing a beat.

Obviously intrigued, House turns slowly, narrowing his gaze on the equally stubborn Dean. "Tell Jimmy what?" he asks, raising a narrow brow. Again, Cuddy doesn't even look up. "That you have feelings for him."

House blanches but recovers quickly with a scoff. "Feelings for my ultra special Jiminy Cricket? Since when have I EVER had feelings, Dr. Cuddly- bear."

Cuddy makes a sound of obvious annoyance. "Since now, House. You care about him." She raises her gaze to meet his piercing blue orbs. "As more than a friend," she clarifies, chuckling. "It's cute, but rather obvious. You're just lucky Wilson's oblivious. But I may be so inclined to fix that if you don't go... tomorrow," she threatens, looking down at her work once more.

He walks out in a huff without a reply. Cuddy shakes her head to herself, as the door falls shut behind the fickle doctor. House heads toward the elevator, still slightly off-canter but hiding it well. Him? Have 'feelings' for Jimmy? No fucking way. Cuddy is out of her mind. He hits the button for his floor. She's nuts.

* * *

_**-Do you remember yesterday?-**_

* * *

He can't help thinking about it. His gaze keeps sliding to Jimmy, watching him out of the corner of his blue eyes. The brunet oncologist is sprawled out on the other side of the couch, not even half a foot away from House. A beer in his hand, pizza plates on the table before the TV, his floppy brown hair falling perfectly across his face, just over his- much too bushy for anyone else, but somehow perfect for him- eyebrows.

There's no fucking way he 'likes' the brunet doctor. There's no way. Cuddy is an idiot. She's wrong. She's always wrong, so he's not that surprised, but something is bothering him.

"House?" questions his best friend, inquisitive brown orbs landing on his own. House turns his head to glance at the younger, lifting a thin brow.

Wilson raises one of his own in reply. "What's wrong? You haven't been able to sit still all night." House frowns; was he really that obvious? The elder bites his lip, the first explanation he thought of falling from his lips. "Cuddy's making me go to that stupid conference," he grunts, expressionless, his eyes not leaving the flickering image of Meredith Grey and McDreamy making out.

Wilson chuckles, amused and- thankfully- buying it. "It's not the end of the world House. It's just a conference."

House scowls as he takes a gulp from his beer. "It's in Maryland... Maryland for Christ's sake," he grumbles, obviously upset.

Wilson rolls his eyes. "Would you rather it be in... North Dakota?"

House smirks, meeting the oncologist's obviously amused eyes and temporarily forgetting the accusation that had so distressed him only an hour ago. "Actually... I'd rather it be in Michigan. I'd take Cuddles along and maybe we could... relive some memories."

A laugh breaks happily from Wilson's lips and House can't help the odd feeling in his stomach at the mere sound of the other's laughter and the sight of that grin and those dimples and dancing eyes. He bites his lip. Cuddy's an idiot. She has no idea what she's talking about.

* * *

_**-Wont you promise me tomorrow?-**_

* * *

Just because he's here does not mean Cuddy's right, House argues with himself quietly as he fingers the strap of his belt, shifting in his 2nd class seat on the plane bound for Maryland. He bites his lower lip, shoulders sinking in relief when the pilot announces that they'll be landing within twenty minutes. His eyes flicker to the window, a sudden and violent flash catching his attention immediately. He's not the only one who sees it, judging by the low rumble of worried voices from around the plane. The entire plane suddenly dips violently at the same time that the lights flicker and fail.

Panicked cries fill the cabin and House's fingers dig into the seat cushion as he curses violently. The plane nose dives as shouts and screams and instructions seem to come from everywhere at once. House tightens his seat belt and presses himself as tight as possible into the seat, common sense overriding panic. There's the loud screech of twisting metal and violent wind. The ground seems to speed toward the plane at top speed and then-

Black.

* * *

_**-Do you remember yesterday?-**_

* * *

Wilson sighs as he watches House walk on to the plane; it was going to be quiet without the other man. Wilson dared to say he would miss him. He nips his bottom lip as he heads back out for the parking lot, casting a worried look at the sky as he breaks out of the claustrophobic bustle of the airport. The sky is curiously dark, thin strips of cloud occasionally breaking the violent gray-black of what should be a perfect day.

House would be fine, he tells himself, trying to set his twisting stomach at ease. House is always fine.

He climbs into his car, starting the vehicle before heading back to PPTH. He still has work to do and doesn't have time to worry... or at least that's what he tells himself. He pulls out onto the highway, aiming his car for the hospital. He feels like he's gonna be sick... but why? House is fine. He'll be fine. Gregory House is always fine. He ends up almost chanting the platitude under his breath due to his twisting innards.

House would be fine. House is always fine.

* * *

_**-Wont you promise me tomorrow-**_

* * *

The sharp click of Cuddy's heals on the asphalt as she heads for her car is steady and constant, her fingers reaching for her keys and pressing the green 'unlock' button on the small remote attached to the key chain. She's smiling to herself, her victory over House setting her mood for what would have been the entire week. Yes, she had played dirty, using House's unrealized feelings for his best friend against him, but House played dirty with her all the time. He deserves a taste of his own medicine once in a while.

She wonders if Wilson would ever figure out his own feelings. Wilson was a bit more obvious than his best friend of a diagnostician who pretty much keeps up his walls for a living. Wilson's feelings for House are obvious to the entire hospital, House being the only one left clueless, probably more out of denial than naivete.

"Maybe I'll have to help them along a bit or they'll never figure it out," she mutters under her breath as she gets into her car. She starts the engine and pulls out of her parking place, before steering out of the parking lot and out onto the highway. The sky is curiously dark as she drives down the busy interstate. She turns off on another road, attempting to avoid the traffic clear ahead when there's a violent flash, blinding her temporarily. Her knuckles clutch the steering wheel as she drives blind for a few moments. Finally, she regains sight just in time to see the blinding headlights of a car directly in front of her. She cries out and jerks the wheel violently to the left, not fast enough as the car comes to a screeching halt, the violent sound of shattering glass and twisting metal assaulting her ears before everything goes black.

* * *

_**-Do you remember yesterday?-**_

* * *

Chase follows Cameron and Foreman down to the clinic with a sigh. No House, no case, meant for a very boring afternoon. He may have just started working for the elder doctor three months ago, but he's learned his way around pretty quickly. The temperamental mental doctor, though a pain in the ass, is definitely brilliant, saving patients left and right. Plus, if the older doctor gets too much for the trio to handle, they can always call in back-up, aka Dr. James Wilson, said older doctor's best friend... though Chase is starting to wonder if they were more.

Sure, the hospital rumor mill is always saying the two doctors are definitely already more than friends, but Chase isn't so sure. Yes, it's obvious that Wilson likes House as more than just his best friend, but House isn't as easy to read. The two flirt and tease each other more than any two straight men have a right to. He wonders when they're actually gonna get together.

Both Cameron and Foreman split off to work their own rooms as Chase hesitates for a moment. His eyes are suddenly but surely drawn to one of the windows and a blinding flash temporarily makes sight an impossibility and silences what feels like the entire building. Then everything goes black, electricity and lights and life saving equipment simultaneously shutting down, quickly and efficiently ensuring chaos.

* * *

_**-Wont you promise me tomorrow?-**_

* * *

Wilson groans as he pulls himself out from the wreck that is his car. The flash of light that had sent him barreling into another car, head on, was long gone. He crawls away from the pile of twisted metal, paling when he recognizes the car. "Cuddy!" he calls out, panicked for his friend.

There's a low groan from not too far away and the voice is painfully familiar. He calls out again as he crawls toward the sound. "Cuddy!"

A small body pulls herself out a window and tumbles to the ground. She's got a few cuts and scrapes, but is otherwise unharmed. Wilson, ignoring his own injuries, scrambles for the disoriented Dean who also happens to be one of his closest friends.

He wraps an arm around her crumpled body, pulling her into a sitting position. "Lisa? Can you hear me? Are you alright?" he questions, a note of concern possessing his voice. The older groans and lifts her face, pale blue eyes narrow and focusing on the brown ones of the younger. "Wilson?"

Wilson's shoulders slump with pathetic relief, his mind going a million miles a minute. "Yeah, it's me... that light.. I couldn't see.. fuck, I'm sorry... I didn't..."

Cuddy interrupts. "S'not your fault. I couldn't see either. No one could. What the hell was that?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," he sighs in reply, his face lifting to scan the horizon. There's an ear splitting ring that pierces the cool air and both bodies curve to look toward the sound. Then, there's an almost unbearably loud explosion, though it's obvious the noise had originated several hundred miles away. Cuddy's eyes land toward the north... there's smoke.. lots of it.

Wilson's breath catches. He saw the same thing on 9/11... only this was thousands of times worse.

* * *

_**-Do you remember yesterday?**_

* * *

All that's heard is ringing and pounding and shouting and overwhelming unbearable silence. Yes, he realizes that's a contradiction and no, he doesn't care. He tastes iron on his tongue and can feel blood at his temple, but he's still breathing and that's a feat on its own, considering the force and speed of the crash.

House struggles to disentangle himself from the debris, his piercing blue eyes searching the too dark landscape, searching for movement, for sound, for any signs of life. He crawls out from beneath the rubble, his back and head and entire body aching but he forces himself through the almost intolerable pain. He struggles- and I do mean he STRUGGLES- to his feet, they feel like rubber noodles beneath his trembling body.

The thirty-seven year old diagnostician lifts his eyes bravely to examine the seemingly lifeless area, breath catching as they rest on the landscape. The entire horizon is black, seemingly deserted for miles around, and not because he's in the middle of nowhere; he's only twenty minutes out from Maryland. The entire area between New Jersey and Maryland is much too populated for him to have been able to land in any sort of deserted area.

The thing that most fervently catches his attention is the looming shadow in the distance, hovering over what he thinks should be somewhere near both Jersey and New York. He bites his lip hard enough to draw more blood, because god knows he needs to lose more of that precious liquid, as it occurs to him what the large shadow above was... a plane... no... too big... it was, like a rocket, but larger, and much more intimidating... maybe... no... was it a... a ship?

House wipes his mouth, his hands shaking. He glances down briefly before staring more determined at the looming shadow. A piercingly shrill ringing fills the air before everything seems to stand still... then there's the unbearable sound of an insane explosion and smoke erupts along the horizon. "Shit."

* * *

_**-Won't you promise me tomorrow?-**_

* * *

-Alright. Tell me what you think. Any suggestions?

Also, I'm going to be requesting some pretty little characters, so if you would like to be a character in this, please have at it. Leave me a review or a private message with the following information on your character.

**Name**

**Age (3-49)**

**Occupation before all hell broke lose**

**Some back story**

**personality**

**Physical description **

**and anything else you wish me to know or include about you.**


	2. It Only Takes A Moment

**Title:** Promise Me Tomorrow

**Author:** Fate's Apprentice

**Fandom:** TV- House, MD.

**Language:** English

**Rating:** T- for language, innuendos, and adult situations.

**Setting:** Before the actual series started and before House's infarction.

**Characters:** G. House, J. Wilson, R. Chase, A. Cameron, E. Foreman, L. Cuddy. Various Ocs.

**Pairings:** G. House/ J. Wilson – (Hilson). R. Chase/ OC, A. Cameron/OC, L. Cuddy/OC

**Author's Notes:** This story starts about three years before the actual series and most definitely before House's infarction. If you don't like that idea, don't read it.. hit the back button, walk away... I don't care. Just don't complain about THAT in my reviews. Because of this setting, ages are different. House is now 37, Wilson is 34, Cuddy is 36, Chase is 28, Cameron is 26, and Foreman is 33.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognize, I'm just merely borrowing them. Please don't sue my pants off. Also, I got this idea from watching FALLING SKIES. This is NOT A CROSSOVER, I'm just applying the general premise of FALLING SKIES to HOUSE, MD and this is what I got.

**Summary:** House ducks roughly to the ground, heart pounding. He raises his gun, aims and fires. It hits the Cootie and the alien drops, spurring a cry of victory from behind him and it sends a sick thrill through him since they're cheering for him. When's the last time someone cheered for him? When's the last time ANYTHING was normal. AU- idea from FALLING SKIES. NOT CROSSOVER. Hilson Slash.

* * *

Chapter Two:

It Only Takes A Moment

* * *

"It's a death wish, Cuddy." responds Wilson as he slowly stands, wincing from the rigid ache in his bones, now seeming somewhat permanent. He supposes he should get used to it. They'd been running and dodging for nearly a week. _Running from what?_ he questions himself, steeling his jaw as he narrows his gaze on the fading image of yet another one of those... things.

Cuddy watches the younger out of the corner of her blue-gray eyes, wiping the grit from her face as she stumbles to her own feet, though the two humans still remain crouched awkwardly behind an over-turned car. She pulls her hair back again, as it had escaped its holder. She scoffs at his answer. "Then what do you suggest we do, Mr. Expert?" she clucks her tongue with obvious impatience.

Wilson nips his lip, large brown eyes remaining on the spot where the strange creature had been. His eyes are thoughtful as he turns to face the know-it-all Dean. The skin around his eyes crinkles slightly. "...Guns..." he murmurs before picking himself up off the ground and heading purposefully westward. Cuddy looks surprised, but she follows the younger with a certain degree of annoyance.

"Guns? Really, Wilson? Do you even know how to shoot one?" she questions, struggling to keep up with his purposeful strides in her heels. Heels, Wilson notes, that she should have long ago abandoned. Wilson chuckles morbidly, not breaking pace. "Actually, yes. My Dad used to take us hunting all the time when we were kids and I'm a pretty good shot as well. So yes, to answer your question, I can shoot a gun," he answers matter-of-factly.

"Whether you can shoot or not, what makes you think it'll make a difference to those... things?" she questions incredulously. Wilson frowns to himself. "I think it will... everything can die, Cuddy. EVERYTHING has a sweet spot. And even if I can't find it right away, I'm sure as hell not heading back to the hospital unarmed," he responds determinedly.

Cuddy sighs, exasperation coloring her voice. "There are people back at the hospital, supplies, food. The sooner we get there, the better. Wilson, don't be an idiot."

Wilson stops, turning to face his friend with a determination rarely seen. "All those things make that place a target, Cuddy. That's simple logic, and I'm certainly not walking into hell without a gun." He starts off again. Cuddy hesitates, her eyes flickering between him and the opposite direction, where she knows the hospital to be.

Wilson doesn't even seem to notice her indecision, his mind clearly already made up. Cuddy hesitates again. She lifts her feet, one at a time, and removes her shoes before hurriedly running after the oncologist, barefoot. Wilson glances out of the corner of his eye at the rattled looking Dean. "We'll see about getting you some shoes, too." Cuddy nods quietly, obviously recognizing that Wilson outranks her intelligence-wise here. She worries her bottom lip. "I don't know how to shoot a gun," she murmurs, nervously. Wilson's lips twitch briefly. "I'll teach you," he promises.

* * *

_**-Won't You Promise Me Tomorrow?-**_

* * *

"Shhh..." Chase hushes the hysterics of a small child as he tugs her closer to him, hoping to comfort her. His eyes flicker around the almost pitch black room, but time spent in the dark has allowed his eyes to adjust and he can make out the sparse outlines of his only remaining co-workers and the few patients left. All others either left or were killed by the.. aliens?... or lack of life-saving equipment.

Cameron is cradling a small toddler, her panicked gaze meeting his momentarily as the sound of another one of those... things.. passing over head. Foreman is stoic faced near two other adult patients. Three nurses are crowded on the other side of the room near a sparse amount of patients, five of them adult and two of them children.3 That's it for the small room. If anyone else is alive in the hospital, they won't be for long. Not with those god damn things raiding rooms and killing everything in sight. Chase had been the only one to see a few, and what they were doing had stunned him into silence. They were abducting children, killing their parents without a second thought and kidnapping the screaming kids with no emotion. It curdled his stomach and made him realize just what kind of hell they were trapped in. Actually, right now, he had no idea if any of them were getting out alive.

Cameron sends him a startled look as the noise of the god forsaken things grows closer. All hysterics are suddenly silenced as they all wait with baited breath for the end... for them to find the small band of survivors. Foreman gives him a look, stepping in front of his little group, though they both know the action does little except make them feel better.

The noise grows louder and louder as a mechanical shuffling sounds directly over them. The girl Chase is holding sneezes impulsively, and somehow the entire room grows stiller, the air feeling literally sucked out, as if by a vacuum. The sounds overhead pause and they're all waiting for it. Waiting for the basement door to be thrown open, burning light to shine accusingly on them, children to be dragged away and the rest to be killed... no mercy.

The sound starts up again, gradually fading and Chase releases a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. The girl in his arms whimpers, her sticky hair clinging to his arms with sweat. He ignored the itchy crawling sensation and tugs her closer, clinging to whatever sanity he has left as they sink down the wall and rest on the floor, shoulders slumping with pure relief. One question remains on all of their minds as the sounds grow fainter and fainter: What happens now?

* * *

_**-Do You Remember Yesterday?-**_

* * *

The goddamn things wont let up, growing nearer and nearer, threatening to discover and overwhelm him before suddenly disappearing, vanishing into thin air around the rubble of the city that surrounds him. He adjusts the rifle on his back, quickly pilfered from a weapons store when instinct had set in shortly after the shock wore off. There were advantages to being the only son of an asshole career military man. The gun was a sniper rifle, perfect for him and he thanks whatever deity may or may not exist that it was a collector's gun store, made mostly for soldiers, so there had been a fair amount of weapons and supplies. All of which he had carefully collected and stored.

He glances behind him to the two hospital beds. On one was a young woman with bright red hair and pale skin, marred by freckles and the startling discoloration of bruises and cuts. She was petite, maybe 5'3 and a hundred pounds soaking wet. She had been so pathetic looking, one of the only two other survivors on House's plane. The other survivor was a small child, a little boy- no more then five or six- with curly dark hair and fair skin. He was scrawny and injured, one arm in a makeshift sling as it was surely broken and several cuts marring the frail skin.

He sighs. House had known risking his neck to save the only two with a pulse was brave, but borderline idiotic. Dragging them back to the abandoned clinic wasn't much better either. But at least here there were medical supplies, things he could use to save the two he had somehow been drawn into rescuing.

Neither had moved, save the steady rise and fall of their breathing, since last week. The boy had woken briefly almost an hour ago before falling back into his accursed slumber. House's patience was wearing thin, though he knew he wouldn't be able to leave them. He couldn't explain it, but he felt responsible for them now.

It had taken him two days to get the three of them into a nearby city, which he knew not. He stiffens at the now much too familiar sound of the god forsaken creatures coming near yet again. He backs away from the window and wheels the beds toward the furthest most end of the facility. He shuts the door firmly, running a hand across both their faces, still ever-vigilant for the early signs of an infection. A murmur of a voice startles him, making his head jerk in the direction of the woman. Reluctantly, he leaves the child to stand at the bedside of the redheaded woman. Nipping his bottom lip, he rests the back of his hand on her forehead.

Blurry green eyes open slowly, confusion and disorientation prominent in the brilliant orbs. House bites down on his lip, not looking forward to explaining how this woman's life had shifted from comfort to hell as easily as one slips on the rough icy ground beneath him. It only takes a moment, he reminds himself as he hushes the woman- uncharacteristically kind for himself-, it only takes a moment.

* * *

_**-Wont You Promise Me Tomorrow?-**_

* * *

-Alright. Tell me what you think. Any suggestions?

Also, I'm going to be requesting some pretty little characters, so if you would like to be a character in this, please have at it. Leave me a review or a private message with the following information on your character.

**Name**

**Age (3-49)**

**Occupation before all hell broke lose**

**Some back story**

**personality**

**Physical description**

**and anything else you wish me to know or include about you.**

_PLEASE REVIEW!_


	3. Always Never Wrong

**Title: **Promise Me Tomorrow

**Author: **Fate's Apprentice

**Fandom: **TV- House, MD.

**Language: **English

**Rating: **T- for language, innuendos, and adult situations.

**Setting: **Before the actual series started and before House's infarction.

**Characters: **G. House, J. Wilson, R. Chase, A. Cameron, E. Foreman, L. Cuddy. Various Ocs.

**Pairings: **G. House/ J. Wilson – (Hilson). R. Chase/ OC, A. Cameron/OC, L. Cuddy/OC

**Author's Notes: **This story starts about three years before the actual series and most definitely before House's infarction. Also, Stacy doesn't exist. I actually hate her with a passion so... yeah... If you don't like that idea, don't read it.. hit the back button, walk away... I don't care. Just don't complain about THAT in my reviews. Because of this setting, ages are different. House is now 37, Wilson is 34, Cuddy is 36, Chase is 28, Cameron is 26, and Foreman is 33.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything you recognize, I'm just merely borrowing them. Please don't sue my pants off. Also, I got this idea from watching FALLING SKIES. This is NOT A CROSSOVER, I'm just applying the general premise of FALLING SKIES to HOUSE, MD and this is what I got.

**Summary: **It's times like these when he misses him. When it occurs to House how much he cares for the younger oncologist. When Wilson wonders if the older diagnostician is okay, is he happy, or even alive. It's times like these when it hits them how very much in love with each other they really were and they never even realized it... but now it's too late, right? House/Wilson Slash.

**Beta: **My amazing Beta, _Crystal Dragon's Lament _is fantastic and gets all the credit.

* * *

**Chapter Three:**

**Always Never Wrong**

* * *

"Breathe, Cuddy. If you pass out from lack of oxygen, you're definitely not gonna hit the damn thing," Wilson chuckles. Cuddy sighs, her arms trembling from holding the pistol in her unsteady hands. She was a doctor, she'd never held a gun in her life and, previously, she'd believed Wilson of the same truth... that thought was out the window now. The oncologist had hit every target without really even trying, while Cuddy hadn't come within a foot of any goal.

Wilson comes up behind her and helps her hold the gun, his voice directs her, sure and steady over her shoulder. "Aim," he instructs, helping her raise the pistol so the barrel of the gun stares down the center of the target. She takes a breath and he nods slowly. "Now squeeze the trigger and follow through."

He steps away and she presses down on the trigger hard, the sound of the bullet ringing through her ears as she jerks down the gun to see where she'd hit. She hit the target's foot, far from his chest, where she was supposed to have shot. Wilson sighs again. "Better, but do you know what you did wrong?"

Cuddy grits her teeth. "I didn't follow through," she answers tiredly.

"Right," he replies softly. "You pulled away to see how you did instead of holding your stance to shoot again."1 She shoves the pistol into his hands with a exasperated noise and stalks off back into the gun shop. Wilson jumps. "Hey," he shouts, fumbling with the still loaded gun. "Careful, it's loaded." He takes out the clip and carefully removes the bullets, shoving them in his pocket before following the irritated Dean.

He heads into the gun shop the two had been using for shelter. "Cuddy, it's your first time. You cant be amazing at everything you do the first time you set your hands to it."

Cuddy scoffs, turning to him with a visible degree of anger. Wilson puts both his hands up in a placating gesture as the furious woman stalks closer. "I don't think I can do everything!" she shouts, outraged.

Wilson shakes his head. "I didn't say that..." Cuddy throws up her hands before stalking out. Wilson frowns. "Cuddy, I don't think you should go off by yourself..." he calls towards her as he hurries after the older.

* * *

_**-Do you remember yesterday?-**_

* * *

Chase picks his way through the hospital, looking for anyone and anything to rescue or salvage. The place is creepily deserted and it sends chills through him since this is the first time he's seen the normally much-too-busy hospital this... hauntingly empty. He thinks he hears something and turns sharply to the left. He stills for a moment and quiets his own breath to hear better. "Hello?" he calls out, still rather timid from fear.

He hears a sniffle and heads toward the sound, narrowing his brows and running his fingers clumsily through his pale blond2 locks. He moves down the narrow hall. "Anyone there?" he calls again.

There's a bit of a stall before the door of a closet creaks open and a brunette3 head of curls appears in the darkened doorway. "H-hello?"

Chase blinks before heading towards her, kneeling at her side and looking her over. "Are you okay, sweetie?" he murmurs quietly and with concern in his voice. Bright green eyes look at his, clouded with fear but surprising intelligence. She doesn't look like a little girl anymore, but is clearly not quite an adult. Probably falling in around sixteen or seventeen, looking scared, and clearly alone, Chase offers her a small smile.

"Are they gone?" she breathes.

The intensivist nods before the petite girl unfurls herself from her defensive position in the closet and slowly crawls out toward him. Chase offers a hand and they both stand on wobbly feet. "What's your name?" he asks gently.

"Olivia..." she murmurs, almost as if she's not quite sure. "What's yours?"

"I'm Dr. Chase, but you can call me Robbie. What are you doing here... before... what were you doing in the hospital?"

She tugs at her scrubs. "I was a high school intern... is there anyone else?"

Chase nods and leads her down the stairs to return to the group. Now there were fourteen of them. Chase, Cameron, Foreman; two nurses: Margie and Roy; five adult patients: Max, Jennifer, Leanne, David, and Tony; four kids: Kim, Marcus, Timothy, and... Olivia.

Chase bites his lip, wishing there were more of the little group. And where the hell was Wilson and Cuddy... what about House... was his boss even alive?

* * *

_**-Wont you promise me tomorrow?-**_

* * *

House is pacing, and the man rarely paces... much less worries, but his stomach twists with a vengeance he can't deny. His bright blue eyes rest worriedly on the small body of the young child he had rescued from the desolate wreckage of the plane.

The kid had woken up before, but now an infection had set in due to the large wound to his right forearm, broken in the most hideous way, the bone protruding from the too pale skin. House hand patched and splinted and had done whatever he could do. His name was Kaiden, or at least that's what the two adults had thought the delirious child had said, but House was starting to think the child was younger than he appeared, perhaps only three or four.

He glances over at the redheaded woman, Eva Kirkland. _What kind of name is that? h_e had questioned teasingly, remembering the easy laugh that had sprang from her lips. And it was _Eh-vah_, not _EE-vah_ she had insisted, he recalled, in her ridiculous British accent.

She hadn't believed him at first, about the whole alien thing... and honestly, he didn't blame her. She had left, setting off stubbornly on her own, only to return not even an hour later- as House had predicted- pale, fear stricken, and wounded. House had fixed up the non-serious wound to her side, the scrape of a bullet not even piercing her freckled flesh, and had called her an idiot for the stupid maneuver.

Now she was staying, happy to be behind the doctor with a sniper rifle and looking worriedly at Kaiden. She frowns at him, skin above her nose crinkling with worry and green eyes sparkling with concern. "Isn't there anything else you can do?" she murmurs in question.

He grits his teeth. "There's everything BUT antibiotics here and the kid desperately needs some," he answers, stopping mid-pace.

Eva looks at him, eyes sharply narrowing. "Is there anywhere we could get some?"

House nods slowly as he moves over to the sweating child. He hesitantly rests a hand on the kid's forehead; he's burning up.4 Normally, House finds kids to be unruly little brats and dreads any contact with the creatures, but this one... he looked so... innocent... so... helpless. His breath catches in his throat and he furrows his brow before turning and looking toward the door. He nods slowly, determinedly, and then glances at Eva before turning back to the door.

He bites his lip before picking up his bag and sniper rifle. He slings both over his back and loads his rifle. Eva looks startled. "Dr. House? Where are you going?"

House glances at her. "House... just House... or- what the hell- Greg'll work too." He frowns. "He needs those meds. I'm gonna get them." He heads toward the door and then stops and turns back to her with a glare. "DON'T MOVE," he orders. Eva huffs, but nevertheless sits next to Kaiden, a concerned hand on the child's forehead. House nods. "I'll be back," he promises, before opening the door and heading into the pitch black of night, letting the door fall shut firmly behind him.

* * *

_**-Do you remember yesterday?-**_

* * *

"Cuddy? Cuddy? Where the hell did you go?" Wilson calls as he hurries through the shambles of the city, readjusting the pack over his shoulder and running his thumb over the metal of his pistol. There's a shout from the left, possessing a desperation that immediately gets the young oncologist's attention.

"Wilson! Help!" The voice definitely belongs to his impatient boss and spurs Wilson into turning sharply and sprinting to the right through the rubble towards her panicked voice.

When he gets to her, he freezes. There's blood and a lot of it. He runs over to her as the Dean is leaning over the limp body of a young woman. The woman is perhaps in her mid-thirties and pale, but more noticeably, she's clearly and very pregnant. There's a shot to her neck and she's barely breathing, barely holding on.

Wilson's breath catches. Yes, he knew a lot of people had to have been killed because of this, and he'd seen his share of bodies, but this... this was different. This was... hell.

Cuddy looks at him. "Well? Help me!" she barks, obviously affected by the scene.

Wilson swallows thickly. "Cuddy..." He shakes his head. The woman was barely breathing and they didn't have much to even try and save her.

Cuddy stands. "We have to do something!" she shouts.

Wilson worries his lip before kneeling by her. "Can you hear me?"

The woman nods, barely.

Cuddy swallows as does Wilson. Cuddy was right, they had to do something.

* * *

_**-Won't you promise me tomorrow?-**_

* * *

Cameron worries her lip and swallows hard.5 The amount of bodies littering the hospital is sickening. It was simply a massacre, no mercy, no hope, just... desolation. She glances back at the small group of them, now gathered in the clinic of the hospital. So many kids without parents, so many parents who lost their children. It's sinking in now, slowly but surely, and there's crying and sobbing and just complete and total... some of them are just simply... gone.

The skittering of debris jars Cameron from her thoughts and she jerks her head in the direction of the entrance. Chases heads in, his arm around a petite looking girl, perhaps around sixteen, with curly dark brown hair and soft green eyes, freckles sprinkling the pale skin over her nose and her cheeks. She stands from her spot next to Leanne and Max who are sobbing hysterically, as she had tried to comfort them, and runs over to Chase.

"Who-?"

"This is Olivia, she was hiding in a closet upstairs. She's sixteen, a medical intern from the high school. Her family's a mystery since they shouldn't even be here."

Cameron nods. "Go look for more, I'll take her."

Olivia freezes, and shakes her head emphatically. "N-no. Robbie has to st-stay with me. He promised," she argues quietly.

Cameron hesitates, narrowing her gaze on the young girl. "I can-."

Cameron doesn't even get to finish before Olivia is shaking her head. "No," she replies stubbornly as she clutches the Australian's jacket.

Cameron sighs and gestures for them to head in. The two both pass, Chase chuckling at Olivia's attitude. "You're the oldest kid here, you know."

Olivia shrugs. "So?"

* * *

_**-Do you remember yesterday?-**_

* * *

House crouches along, bolting across open streets and searching for a goddamn clinic or, better yet, a hospital. He holds his rifle close to his chest as he heads down the street. A twig snaps behind him and he jerks around on his heels, rifle swinging and finger itching to pull the trigger. He stops short, breath catching when his eyes land on a woman, half conscious and looking more than disoriented, pinned under some rubble.6 He stops and turns abruptly, heading toward her.

Black hair with medium blue highlights and deep purple low-lights that reaches just past her shoulders, scoops messily across gray-green eyes and cream colored skin. She isn't skinny but she certainly isn't heavy either and of perhaps average height, probably in her mid twenties. He hurries toward her, pushing his bag further onto his back and replacing his rifle back in its sling across his back. He stoops down to push the rubble of the over turned car off the girl. When he moves it enough with his body, he tugs her out with a hand.

The girl jerks her head around, wide gray eyes looking slightly frantic but the rest of her face remains stoic. Gritting his teeth, House drops the car again slowly and turns to her. She's watching him tentatively. "What's your name?" he asks, gruffly.

"What's yours?" she shoots back, almost at the same time he had asked her. She bites her lip before wetting them and tasting blood in her mouth.

"Greg House. I'm a doctor," he replies shortly.

"What kind?" she inquires.

"What's your name?" he shoots back.

"Al- Alkaid Kincaid."

House gives her a look. "What kind of name is that?" he snorts.

"Mine. Now, what kind?"

"A diagnostician," he sighs in answer, before turning around. The girl wasn't in danger anymore and she didn't appear to be hurt, aside from a few scratches. If she followed- she followed, if she didn't -she didn't.

"Where are you going?" she calls, hurrying after him.

"Leaving," he answers gruffly.

She looks around with wide gray eyes. "What the fuck happened here?"

House sighs as they continue on. "Not just here... everywhere... I think."

Alkaid stops him, jerking his arm and body to a halt and he glares at her. "What do you mean, '_I think_'. What the hell is going on!"

House snorts. "Well, right about now every sci-fi nerd in the world is screaming '_I told you so!_'" He gives her a measured look.

"Meaning?"

House deadpans, "Apparently, there are aliens... and they do not fucking come in peace." Then he starts onward again, intent on finding those antibiotics and no longer caring if the weird girl followed or not. He hears her hurrying after him again after a long moment of her thinking, cogs churning in her multicolored head.

There's a long moment of silence, besides the sounds of their steps, before Alkaid breaks it. "You're wrong, you know." she murmurs.

House stops again, brow furrowing. "I'm never wrong," he says before starting off again. After a few moments, his lips twitch. "Just out of curiosity, what about?"

"The sci-fi nerds aren't saying anything right about now..." She smirks.

He raises a brow. "Oh?"

"They're nerds..." She gives him a look. "They're all dead."

* * *

_**-Won't you promise me tomorrow?-**_

* * *

-Alright. Tell me what you think. Any suggestions?

Also, I'm going to be requesting some pretty little characters, so if you would like to be a character in this, please have at it. Leave me a review or a private message with the following information on your character.

**Name**

**Age (3-49)**

**Occupation before all hell broke lose**

**Some back story**

**personality**

**Physical description**

**and anything else you wish me to know or include about you.**

_PLEASE REVIEW!_


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